


Five Times Cel Kissed Someone (and one time Cel got kissed)

by roswyrm



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (like only if u think abt it but better to overtag), 5+1 Things, Affection, Burns, CAN YOU BELIEVE WE HAVE A CANON NONBINARY CHARACTER AS PART OF THE PARTY, Caffeine Addiction, Canon Asexual Character, Complicated Relationships, Dirty Jokes, During Canon, Grief/Mourning, Healing, IM SO EXCITED YALL, Imminent Explosions, Lunch Dates as Bonding, Minor Body Horror, Misuse of Alchemy, Nonbinary Character, Other, Platonic Kissing, aroace sasha if u squint, but like. magic caffeine., i dont know how magic works. or alchemy. im just slappin' words together, misuse of pathfinder spells, zolf 'im his courtesan' smith tells dirty jokes. change my mind.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roswyrm/pseuds/roswyrm
Summary: Cel is very bright, and alsoveryopen with their affections.





	1. a kiss on the forehead + wilde

**Author's Note:**

> *gestures frantically at the six-foot-tall half-elf with an everywhere accent and canonically neutral pronouns* MY SPOUSE?? DID YOU SEE???? NEW SPOUSE??????????
> 
> Working Title: _hi im already in love_

See, Cel’s very bright. They’ve got more electrical knowledge than they know what to do with, a brilliant apprentice, and they’ve learned so many languages it’s hard to keep track. Cel is _very_ bright, and they’re also _kinda lonely,_ not that they really wanna talk about it. Anyway. Not relevant. One might even say _ir_relevant, which is a fun little bit of English weirdness they got from the halfling. They don’t really like the halfling, too flighty and flimsy for any good explosions (or any good _use,_ but they keep that to themselves because Azu and Zolf seem to like him) but he’s got a whole array of English nonsense that they’re looking forward to peppering into their own sentences.

This has gotten off track.  
Cel’s internal monologue tends to do that.  
_Anyway!_

Cel’s very bright, and that means that they notice how Oscar’s words don’t seem to come out as often as they expect. Cel’s very bright, and that means that they insist on having lunch together, which means that slowly but surely, Oscar opens up. “It _is_ hard to get a good souffle, here,” he agrees during one of these lunch dates, and Cel nods vigourously as they slurp up their soba.

They swallow the noodles all in one go, which is unpleasant, but it does make talking easier. “See, that’s what I told him! But Jasper’s a good kid, you know. Said something about ‘polka dot paint’ as he went out to get me one, but that’s just how he is.” Oscar hums appreciatively, and then he leans across the table conspiratorially.

“I think, if you asked Zolf nicely enough, he’d make you one.” Cel can feel their eyes growing wide with delight, and Oscar laughs. “He’s quite a good cook, actually.”

_“Oh my gosh,”_ Cel says, giddy at the prospect, “you really think he’d do that?”

Oscar shrugs. “I bet he would if _I_ asked.”

Cel can feel their ear twitching the way it only ever does when they’re excited, and even though the other ear’s long gone, the phantom outline of it twitches, too. “Oscar,” they say, “I could _kiss you_ right now! You’re the best! I’m gonna get a souffle! I haven’t had a souffle in _ages,_ darling; I can’t wait!” They stand up with a jolt, lean down, and smack a big wet kiss right onto Oscar’s forehead. (If they’d stayed sitting, they might have knocked over all the noodles, and then where would they be?) He seems startled, which is fair, but apparently, the sudden show of affection is enough to make him laugh, which is all Cel could have asked for. Oscar has a lovely laugh. Cel wishes they heard it more often.


	2. a kiss on the cheek + zolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so, my brand remains "zolf making dirty jokes"

Cel is _very_ bright, but sometimes not bright in the way of _people._ When you’ve been moving around basically your whole life and never having someone like you who could come along with you and understand what the hell you were talking about, it means you get really good at making people like you without ever knowing what you were saying. 

Anyway!  
Not the point! 

The point is, Zolf is carefully dragging his palms across long blocks of stone, and they wobble under his touch like a gelatin mixture. Cel inspects the blueprints and instructs, “Maybe a little thicker at the base?” Zolf opens his mouth to say something, seems to think better of it, and sticks his tongue between his teeth as he continues to Stone Shape.

It’s coming along quite nicely, Cel thinks, and by the time the spell winds itself out, the stone bits of their submersible boat are all done! It looks like it’ll work just fine, if Cel does say so themselves. “As fun as that was,” Zolf says as he gets to his feet, “I really do prefer shaping wood.” Cel extends a hand to help pull him up, which he takes easily, and they squint at him.

“You’re saying that like it’s a joke I should get.”  
“I… because I’m bi.”  
“No, you’re uni, there’s only one of you.”  
“Wh– as in _biromantic,_ Cel.”  
“Oh! Wait, I thought it was bi_sexual?”_  
“No, I’m _a_sexual, I just think dick jokes are funny.”

_“Ohhhhhh,”_ says Cel, nodding in understanding. They don’t know what wood has to do with dick jokes, (probably another English thing) but they look at the block of stone for a long moment before turning back to Zolf. “You should probably stick to wood shaping, because I really don’t think that—” they hook a thumb over their shoulder to point at the stone— “would even fit.” Zolf snorts, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, and Cel grins at the feeling of a joke well-told and well-received. It's a rarity for them.

“I like you, Cel,” the dwarf says, in the exact same tone as Cel’s said it to him a million times.

Cel beams, bending down nearly double to give him a friendly peck on the cheek. “I like you too, Zolf,” they answer fondly, before unfolding themselves up to their full height. “Now! Where’s Azu and her lovely strong arms, we have things that need carrying!”


	3. kisses on the crown of the head + jasper

Cel is very bright, which means they notice when Jasper is fidgeting outside their workshop door. Jasper does a lot of fidgeting, which isn’t ideal when they need him to hold some very volatile chemicals, but it’s basically whatever the rest of the time. Cel fidgets too; it’s kind of hard to sit still when their brain is moving a million miles an hour, but working with potions keeps them occupied enough to keep their hands still.

Why are they thinking about fidgeting…  
Right!  
Jasper!

Cel flips their goggles up and stops dealing with the mast to ask, “Hey-Jasper-how’s-it-going-how-are-you-what’s-up?” Their apprentice blinks, and Cel remembers how fast they usually talk. They focus on the Haste, and they feel it leave their bones all too quickly, leaving them slumped a bit. “Sorry, I forgot. All good now. What’s up, Jasper?”

The gnome takes an awkward step forward, and Cel realises that his hands are hidden behind his back. “I know you’re leaving, soon, so I brewed something f… f-for you.” They cock their head at him curiously. He nods at the ground in front of him, and they decide that the mast can wait a little bit, so they slide down off of it and only roll their ankle a little bit on the awkward landing. Jasper grins and holds out a tiny vial of hot pink liquid. “You taught me how to c… c… con… make things stronger,” he explains, handing them the vial. Cel holds it up to the light, and it almost looks orange with the sharp white glow refracting through it. They uncork it, sniff once, and barely manage not to cough when the smell burns all the hair out of their nose.

_“Whoof,”_ Cel more-huffs-than-says, recorking the strong-enough-to-burn potion, “yeah, I’ll say I did! What’s this a concentration of?”

“Haste,” Jasper says with a shrug that he clearly means to be nonchalant. He ruins the effect not two seconds later by looking up and asking, “Did I do it right?” Cel stares at the potion. Stares at their apprentice. Drops to their knees and scoops Jasper into a rib-crushing hug, peppering kisses all over the top of his head. Jasper laughs, tucking his little head further into their shoulder to escape the onslaught of affection.

When Cel decides he’s had enough, they set him back down on the stone floor of their shop before tucking the Greater Haste into a spare pocket of theirs, where they know it’ll be the safest. “Thank you, Jasper. That, uh. Means a lot to me. Now, I need to get back to work on this mast? I’ll see you around, make sure to remind me when lunch happens.” Their apprentice nods, scampering off to check on the defences again, and Cel beams after him. They trained him well. They’re awfully proud of that little idiot, even if he does clean barrels from the inside, sometimes.

Cel leans over and catches a rosy-coloured glass bottle by the lip with their fingertips, uncorks it, and downs the Haste in one swift action. “Alright,” they say out loud to themselves, “alright-al_right-_let’s-just-look-over-this-again,” and they swing back up to continue their work.


	4. kiss on the cheek + einstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know how to write einstein OR CEL (we've only had an episode and a bit with them) _but_ i think the two of them interacting sure would be SOMETHING

Cel is very bright, and they can feel light bulbs going off around their head that only serve to make them brighter, because _holy poop,_ they think they’ve found their soulmate. The German continues talking, and Cel notices the worried look that Azu and Hamid are giving each other, but they decide they don’t care because _holy! Poop! They’ve found their soulmate!_ “So, basically, should be all good, right?” Ein finishes, looking around at the party.

“Professor—” Hamid begins delicately.  
“I think maybe—” Azu starts to caution him.  
“What the hell—” Zolf asks the other two.

_“Yes,”_ Cel interjects louder than everybody else, which means they win, “yes, that would be– augh, I can only _imagine_ what that kind of reaction would do to the outsides of the shield!” Ein looks up at them, almost surprised, and they swing their hands in the air with excitement. “Abjuration and Conjuration, at that high of a level! Ein— can I call you Ein?”

The professor sticks a hand out. “My first name is Albert.”

Cel leans down to shake it vigorously. “Albert! Great, I’ll call you Albert. Albert, that would be like dumping kingsblood into a swiftthistle mixture and then boiling the whole thing!”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I like the way you said it! Also, who are you?”

Cel grins at him and shakes his hand a little harder before introducing themselves, “Celiquillithon Sidebottom, Cel for short, alchemist from everywhere, and I basically just listed a reaction of plant matter and powders and magic that would make an area of — well, actually, how big was my old workshop? If you carry the one — about thirty-six square feet go up in bright purple flames if you were to agitate it forcefully enough. Like, say, accidentally drop it against a stone floor from eight feet up. Hypothetically.” Albert’s jaw drops slowly, and Cel thinks they can see similar light bulbs above his head.

Hamid begins to stammer something, but Albert cuts across him with, “That could be really useful, in addition to the teleportation! Like, you could make one of those, and when we get there, you chuck it at the tower, you know?”

“I thought of that, but it’s too potent for transportation. Like, really, _really_ too potent, even for my admittedly superior techniques.”

Albert raises his bright white eyebrows and asks, “What if you Shielded it?” Cel goes very still. Well, most of Cel goes still, but their ear begins doing a little jig of enthusiasm. “Because I have Shield, right? I could keep it safe in a little bubble and then when we get there: _boom,_ you know?” Cel can feel their ear practically vibrating off of their head with excitement, and they lean down to smack kisses on both of Albert’s cheeks.

“I _like_ you, Albert, I like you a _lot!”_ Albert puts both hands up to his cheeks, smiling brightly, and Cel starts whisking him away with a perfunctory, “Do you wanna see my makeshift lab? It’s really something, I could get started on a swiftthistle right now, and I bet conjuration would be _really_ helpful for the more delicate processes…”

(Azu watches as Einstein and Cel babble excitedly at and with each other, walking off to their current workshop. Zolf finally manages to stop opening and closing his mouth like a fish to ask, “What... just happened?”

Hamid sighs, more a sound of complete and utter confusion than derision. “I think the professor and Cel just found a lingua franca,” he says, sounding more than a little worried about the fact.

“Which would be?” Zolf asks, looking from Cel to Hamid and back again.

Azu looks down at him with a long-suffering that only an elder sister can manage and begins trudging after the pair. “Explosions,” she enlightens him dully.)


	5. a kiss on the back of the hand + hamid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is cheating bc the kiss happened before the chapter starts

Cel will admit, this is not their brightest moment.

“I’m _sorry,”_ Hamid wails from their lap, arms tight around their ribs in a consolatory hug, “I didn’t know it was _you!”_

Cel says nothing because their mouth has been burnt a bit shut, which has happened before, plenty of times, but usually not so bad that they couldn’t just talk through it. Hamid melted half of their mouth shut all in one go, which is absolutely _spectacular_ firepower that Cel really wishes they had access to. Why did they have to be half-human instead of half-dragon? They don’t know a lot about the meritocrats, other than Hamid’s occasional snippy remarks and Zolf’s quiet disagreements, (or agreements-but-with-a-catch) but if it meant built-in claws and fire, Cel would be on that in a heartbeat.

Anyway!  
They’re waiting for Zolf to heal them!

He expended about half his reserve on Stabilising all the lads and/or blokes, and then another quarter of it getting Azu back to the land of the living, but hopefully he can just get the surface-level healing done first, and deal with all the melted-flesh-is-bad-for-you things later. It’s not like Cel will notice them. Zolf’s using his cane again when he walks into the room, assumedly because it’s been a long day and he’s tired, which happens often enough for it to be A Thing but not often enough for Cel to be really worried about it. They wonder if they could make a potion for him in order to get rid of some of the worst bits of muscle fatigue. Not their place, though, so they leave it alone. Zolf almost manages not to react when he sees them, but the subtle wince is still a wince, and Cel doesn’t really blame him. “Hello, Zolf,” they say, or something like it, but it only barely comes out. Hamid whimpers and hides his face in their chest.

“He did a number on you, huh?” Zolf asks (rhetorically, they can’t answer) with a raised eyebrow. Hamid makes another apologetic noise of anguish from his place in their lap. “I know you don’t have the best track record with hands close to your mouth, but I promise I’ll be as careful not to hurt you as I can.”

Cel shrugs. “I’ve got a congenital insensitivity to pain, you don’t need to be careful. And as long as I don’t try to _kiss_ your hand, it should be all fine!” The expression on Zolf’s face doesn’t change, so it’s a safe bet that he didn’t understand a word they just said. They flap a hand vaguely to express ‘heal away’ and Zolf aligns his own hand carefully over the burn. 

There’s no relief from the pain because there’s not any pain, but magical healing is always soft and comforting, especially when it’s coming from another person. It feels like… like hope. Like faith. It warms them from the inside out, and when Zolf pulls back, they can move their mouth again. They grin at Zolf in thanks and rub their hand over Hamid’s back. “Don’t burn me again,” they instruct, and he nods.

(Cel’s gotta say. They think they’re warming up to him, no pun intended.)


	6. a kiss on the temple + cel

Cel is very bright, and they know what loss looks like.

It looks like the way Azu smiles at them sadly, and the way she never puts Hamid on her shoulders, and the way she’ll start “Gri–” or “Sa–” before grimacing and correcting, “Zolf” or “Cel” and the way she looks guilty when Cel tried to flirt with her. They don’t try that anymore, but sometimes Azu will look at them like she misses it. Loss is a difficult thing, and it’s a difficult thing to get over, and Cel doesn’t really know any formulas for this. They hope being a good friend and a shoulder to cry on is enough.

“What were they like?” Cel asks, as gentle as they can manage. Azu raises an eyebrow at them, and they press on, “The other two. The ones who were here before me and Zolf.” Azu’s face falls, and Cel knows that grief takes a long time, that talking isn’t always the best course of action, but their fatal flaw is trying too hard to understand things. Azu looks at her hands, folded together in her lap. Cel hesitantly gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze, and Azu doesn’t move away from it, so that’s– good. That’s good, they’re glad she’s comfortable with their affection.

Azu doesn’t sound like herself when she says, “They’re not here, but they’re not gone.” Her tusk is broken at an odd angle, and Cel makes a note to whip up some ingestible healing salve for the cut she’s worrying into her top lip with the jagged remnant of it. “They… Grizzop is loyal to a fault. He knows what is right, and what is wrong, and he follows his goddess to the letter. We disagreed, often, but I– there is no one I would rather fight evil beside.” Her voice creaks like the beams of an old, worn building, but it doesn’t break. Paladin’s endurance, Cel supposes. “And Sasha—” there’s fondness and exasperation and longing in her voice, and Cel recognises that particular combination all too well— “she’s better off not described, actually. Defeats the purpose of fading into the shadows.” Cel adjusts their arm carefully so that it’s around Azu’s shoulders, but easily shrugged off.

Azu doesn’t shrug them off. In fact, she leans closer, sagging under the weight that Cel can’t lift. “I’m sorry they’re not here right now.” There’s a long moment of silence, and Cel tries to think of something to fill it. “I bet they’re missing you, too. Wherever they are.”

Azu smiles sadly. “It’s been months,” she says softly, and Cel doesn’t know what she means by that, but they can guess it isn’t exactly good things. “It’s been months, and I don’t know how much time…” Azu raises a hand to the now-bleeding tear in her lip, and she sighs as she rubs the welling blood away. “Sasha never– I don’t think she felt the same way. I don’t think she felt like that for anyone.” Cel starts to answer, or offer sympathy, but Azu just turns to them and murmurs, “But you do.” It’s a rhetorical question, but Cel’s smile gives her an answer anyway.

“I’m your friend, first,” they promise. Azu’s eyes are big and soft and they remind Cel of fresh-brewed coffee; her stare makes them feel jittery in the exact same way. She gives Cel the tiniest of smiles, a barely-there flutter of hope, and presses a tentative kiss to their temple.

Azu leans back, and Cel thinks they heard someone mention ‘wearing her heart on her sleeve’ but that doesn’t make sense at all. Azu wears a heart around her throat, and her emotions show plainly on her face, flushed and guilty and exhilarated all at once. “I think something other than friends would be nice, but it may… I will need time.” It’s been months, but it hasn’t been years the way it has been for the rest of the world, and Cel can’t begrudge her that. Not that they’d begrudge Azu anything except trying to make them go to sleep in the middle of a project, but honestly, they’d begrudge the pantheon themselves for _that._

Anyway. 

Cel nods, setting themselves back on their original thought process. “I’ll be here. As your friend, or partner, or someone to help, or anything in between.” There’s a beat of awkward silence, like they’re both waiting for the universe to shift suddenly away from them, and then Cel gently puts a hand over Azu’s. 

“Take all the time you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> in other news i would die for mx sidebottom,


End file.
